Fake It
by KennyMcCormick1313
Summary: Stenny One-shot. Kyle goes off to school and leaves Stan behind, and Kenny is the only one who can comfort him. But Kenny's heart really isn't in it. T for Kenny's bad language.    Please review


Who's to know if your soul will fade at all,  
The one you sold to fool the world.  
You lost your self esteem along the way.  
Yeah.

'_Who knows if your soul fades? Oh, I know. Believe me I know.' _Kenny thought to himself as he listening to Fake It by Seether on repeat. _'Mine probably faded because it's been to Hell and back. More times than I can count. Not fucking fun…'_

He shifted slightly, only mildly surprised to se his good "friend" Stan lying on the bed beside him. He rolled his eyes and sat up, not caring whether or not he woke the other teen up. "Must've been a great night…" he grumbled to himself, looking around at all of the beer cans and empty bottles that littered his bedroom floor. Opting out of cleaning, Kenny fell back on to the bed and sprawled out, causing Stan to wake up.

"Morning, Kenny." The sleepy, raven-haired boy mumbled, sitting up and stretching. "I had fun last night."

Kenny sat up as well, rolling his eyes inwardly at the other boy's behavior. Stan had been staying over a lot since Kyle had left for university. It wouldn't really have bothered the straw-haired boy, if it hadn't been for the fact that Stan actually _loved_ him. To Kenny, Stan was just a fuck buddy. "Mm." was his indistinguishable response. "When do you think you'll be going home?" he asked, trying to change the subject.

"Well… I was thinking I could maybe stay a little while longer. The house is empty without Kyle…" the shorter boy rested his head on the blonde's shoulder, pouting and using those goddamn puppy dog eyes.

Good god, you're coming up with reasons  
Good god, you're dragging it out  
And good god, it's the changing of the seasons  
I feel so right, so follow me down and just

Kenny rolled his eyes again, outwardly this time, and silently cursed his "good heart". _'Fuck. Fuck, fuck, and fuck again. Every time. He comes up with another fucking excuse every time. And when he doesn't have a new excuse, he says he's lonely. And I just let him right the fuck back in.'_ With a small sigh, he leaned his head against his friend's. "Alright. You can stay a bit longer."

He could practically feel Stan smiling. "I love you, Kenny."

"Yeah, yeah. Love you too." Kenny hated himself for lying. He hated faking his love for Stan. Truth be told, he didn't love him at all. He was just a fun distraction on a Saturday night that just-so-happened to be one of his best friends. He had always told his dark-haired friend to be truthful about his feelings. To never lie. _'God damnit… I'm a fucking hypocrite.'_

Fake it, if you're out of direction  
Fake it, if you don't belong, yeah

_Fake it, if you feel like infection  
Whoa, you're such a fucking hypocrite_

The song continued to play in his ears as Stan snuggled up against him, smiling like an idiot. "Kenny…?" his voice was soft, almost a whisper.

"What?" the blonde asked, trying not to sound annoyed.

"You do love me, don't you? You're not just saying it to make me feel better?" He lifted his head so they could see eye-to-eye. His navy blues staring in to the depths of Kenny's ocean blues.

You should know that the lies won't hide your flaws  
No sense in hiding all of yours  
You gave up on your dreams along the way, yeah

He considered telling the truth for a moment, but decided against it. "Mmmhmm." He responded instead, his deeper voice reverberating through his chest. _'Nope. Not in the slightest. You are a gutterfuck. Nothing else.' _Kenny's mind rambled on while Stan rested his head contentedly on his friend's chest once more.

"Sometimes it just doesn't seem like it…" the black-haired boy yawned, adjusting his position to a more comfortable one.

"I'm just tired lately, that's all. Don't worry." Another inward eyeroll.

Good god, you're coming up with reasons  
Good god, you're dragging it out  
And good god, it's the changing of the seasons  
I feel so right so follow me down and just

'_Lying again…'_ he sighed softly. _'I don't love you, Stan,'_ the thought to himself, _'but damn can I fake it.'_

I can fake with the best of anyone  
I can fake with the best of them all  
I can fake with the best of anyone  
I can fake it all

The song finished for a second time, then started again as Stan's breathing became slow and rhythmic as he drifted back to sleep. He had one arm draped over Kenny's stomach, the other at an odd angle under his head.

'_Maybe I'm not helping him…'_ the slightly hungover drunk wondered, staring at his cracked and flaking ceiling, _'maybe his soul is the one that's fading. And by letting him come back to me, and not get out and actually do something… I'm kicking his self-esteem in the nuts. And both of us are trying to fool the other, I think. He thinks I love him, and he wants me to be Kyle… there's no truth in this relationship…' _Kenny was shocked by his own mind, the weight of his thoughts slowly sinking in.

Who's to know if your soul will fade at all?  
The one you sold to fool the world  
You lost your self-esteem along the way, yeah

The pounding of the drums in his song began to bounce around the inside of his head, mingling with his thoughts. He began to drift back to sleep as well, a familiar scenario – memory, perhaps? – playing out in his mind.

"_Kenny!" the annoyingly happy voice of his recent 'lover' pierced through his pleasant dream._

"_M'up." He replied, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. Looking around his room, a look of disgust began to grow on his face. "I gotta clean this place, dude. Go back toyour house and I'll call you when I'm done, kay?"_

"_No way!" Sometimes Stan acted TOO gay. "I'll help."_

_Kenny silently cursed god for sticking him his emotional wreck of a friend. He always had a reason to stay. _

Good god, you're coming up with reasons  
Good god, you're dragging it out  
Good god, it's the changing of the seasons  
I feel so right, man, follow me down and just

"Just fake it…" Kenny muttered in his sleep.

Fake it, if you're out of direction  
Fake it, if you don't belong, yeah

_Fake it, if you feel like infection  
Whoa, you're such a fucking hypocrite_

"Just… fake it…"

Fake it, if you're out of direction  
Fake it, if you don't belong, yeah

_Fake it, if you feel like infection  
Whoa, you're such a fucking hypocrite_


End file.
